


my glass is still half empty (but the water's fine)

by Bitterbees (Bung)



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mentioned Skip Westcott, Not Beta Read, Overuse of italics, Past Rape/Non-con, Peter Parker Has Issues, Peter Parker Has Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker does NOT need a hug, Peter Parker has like, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Whump, but only kinda, if you ship starker and you even look at this fic I will stomp you to death with my hooves, inaccurate descriptions of panic attacks, really enhanced senses, we die like Tony stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:27:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24766966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bung/pseuds/Bitterbees
Summary: "Mr. Stark?""Mm?""Thank you."Mr. Stark turned his head and looked at Peter with more adoration than one could imagine someone ever having."I would do anything for you kid."orA short hurt/comfort in which Tony comforts Peter having a panic attack.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 17
Kudos: 288
Collections: The Best Irondad/Spiderson Fics, The Best Peter Parker Whump Fics





	1. oak trees don't ignore the circles deep inside (that make them strong)

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first ever fic?? so that wack. I also figure i should say that i don't get panic attacks so i apologise if this is inaccurate
> 
> woah?? this fic has over 2000 hits??? and over 200 kudos?? that's INSANE. thank you so much!!

Peter knew he was in deep shit. Panic attacks lacked any amounts of fun on a typical occasion, but the situation was infinitely worse due to the fact he was currently in his Spider-Suit.

His brain really _had _to betray him at that moment? Peter hadn't even been patrolling, he had just arrived home and was about to take off his suit, but no, he just had to ask Karen to read out his notifications today, and of course today of all days had to be the day they announced- well, Peter didn't even know what they had announced. As soon as he heard Karen speak the name "Albert Einstein", he was no longer paying any attention.__

____

____

It was so stupid. Peter hated the fact that he was still so affected by a goddamn _name _. He couldn't even say it out loud. It had been 10 years since Peter had last seen Him, and he couldn't even hear a _nickname _He had given him. It wasn't even His name - it would take many years of therapy and support from May and Mr. Stark for Peter to even whisper the name of the man who had hurt him almost irreversibly so.____

_____ _

_____ _

Peter was absently aware of Karen talking to him, inciting when to breathe in and out. At some point, Peter assumed once she had realised the breathing exercises weren't working, Karen switched to naming the various sounds and objects around them. It helped, but Peter needed something else. He wasn't quite sure what it was exactly he needed yet - when he had previously had panic attacks, he would find a small, dark place, where he could feel something solid behind him, so no one could sneak up on him, and there was only enough space for one person. Just him. His closet had become somewhat of a safe haven for his panic attacks, aswell as the little gap between his bed and the wall. 

Unfortunately, after being crushed under a large building, Peter no longer found comfort in tight dark spaces, and had even discovered, depending on the circumstances, that small dark spaces were able set off a panic attack.

He took off his mask in an attempt to get more air. Peter was sure he had his back pressed up against some wall, but to be completely honest, he wasn't sure which wall it was. He was certain it was his bedroom, he could see his desk, and his star wars posters and his bed, but his mind was so out of focus he couldn't even formulate the thoughts to figure out which direction he was facing. All he knew was that he could hear the soft whirring of the repulsors on Mr. Stark's Iron Man suit. 

Hang on. Mr. Stark was there already? Peter had hoped that he'd be able to get his heart rate and breathing under control before Karen resorted to calling him, but he was not so lucky. Peter squeezed his eyes tight - maybe if he couldn't see Mr. Stark, Mr. Stark wouldn't see him. Unfortunately, as he expected, he had no such luck - he heard the man leave the suit and awkwardly stumble into his room through his window. Peter was sure if he had watched the scene, and he didn't think he was going to die at any second, he would have laughed. If he _had _watched the scene, he would have noticed how worried Tony had looked, and how urgently he crashed into the room, desperate to make sure Peter had been okay.__

____

____

"Hey kiddo."

Mr. Stark talked to him the same way one might talk to a small, injured animal that they needed to pick up and help. That's what Peter was right? A little, hurt, animal that needed Mr. Stark's help. He hated it. He hated needing his help - Peter was 17, he was almost a legal adult. He shouldn't need to rely on the help of Mr. Stark just to be able to get through his day. 

Despite loathing the very idea that he needed Tony's help, Peter had to admit - it was true. Maybe he would have been able to get through the panic attack without him, but the moment Peter heard Mr. Stark's voice, his brain cleared. Not completely, it still felt like the DVD logo was bouncing aggressively around the inside of his head at triple speed, but it cleared enough to register sounds and the fact that somehow, he had made his way onto the ceiling without even realising it. 

"Pete, kid, I need you to come down from there bud." Mr. Stark extended an arm towards Peter. He couldn't deal with that. He couldn't. He loved Mr. Stark, almost like a father, but Peter couldn't let him touch him. He couldn't. He couldn't. 

So, instead, Peter slunk down from the ceiling, moving away from Mr. Stark, crawling along the walls. Peter saw the hurt flash across his face. If he had blinked he may have missed it, but he didn't. Peter knew it was his own fault, he had caused Mr. Stark to be hurt. He knew why he was hurt - Peter constantly leaned into his touch, and only FRIDAY knew how many times Mr. Stark had carried him to bed after falling asleep on his couch during their weekly movie nights. Both of them were used to physical contact with each other, but Peter couldn't let him touch him. He couldn't. He couldn't.

"It's okay kiddo. It's just me. It's just me." Peter could feel the rumbling of his voice through the floorboards as the man sat down on them. Enhanced senses and all that. He could feel it. He visibly relaxed at the feeling. Mr. Stark was able to comfort him without making any contact. This was good. This was helping. 

"Peter, I'm going to put my hand on your left shoulder, okay?" Mr. Stark asked permission. Peter's head shot up and he reflexively moved away. Peter couldn't let him touch him. He couldn't. He couldn't.

"You don't want me to touch you?" He asked. Peter shook his head violently and quickly. Mr. Stark tilted his head in subtle confusion as Peter squeezed his eyes tight, and somehow curled into himself even more. He appeared to be bracing for something, and when whatever he was preparing himself for didn't happen, his head slowly lifted and he made eye contact with Mr. Stark for a second, before adjusting his gaze towards the floor in front of him. 

It was just Mr. Stark. He was sitting a couple feet away from Peter, cross-legged. He was fiddling with his hands - Peter wouldn't realise until later that Mr. Stark very rarely comforted with his words, but instead resorted to bear hugs and reassuring squeezes when his loved ones were upset.

Peter could feel the comforting rumble of his voice through the floor when he spoke, and he felt safe. 

He was still trembling, unable to stop himself, but he managed to croak out a simple "sorry" before the big knot in his throat came back and rendered him silent. Mr. Stark lifted his arm slightly to rest it on his shoulder as he told Peter that he had nothing to be sorry for, but quickly put it down, pulling his hand into a fist, remembering that a comforting pat might not be so comforting at the time. 

"You're gonna be okay Pete." Mr. Stark paused after seeing Peter lowering his legs from his fetal pose - just a little bit, not a lot, but enough for Mr. Stark to notice. "Is talking helping?" He asked. Peter nodded, not making eye contact with him. 

"Did I ever tell you about the time..."

Peter knew Mr. Stark was telling him silly stories to distract him, but Peter wasn't focusing on the stories. He was focusing on the low rumbling he felt from the floorboards that were created by his voice. Peter found himself getting closer and closer, and by the time Mr. Stark's story was finished, Peter was lying with a flat back down on the floor. Every part of his body that Peter could get to touch the ground was touching it. 

"Do you want me to keep going?" Tony asked. Peter continued to stare up at the ceiling.

"Please." He managed to whisper, his voice still cracking. When Tony started softly telling Peter about the countless times Rhodey had pranked him in his own house, and the time he set up a fantastic date with Pepper and somehow everything he had planned seemed to go wrong, Peter scooched himself towards him, and curled up right next to him, facing the wall and his back touching Mr. Stark's leg. Now Peter was making physical contact with Mr. Stark, he could feel the rumble of his voice even clearer, and Peter was okay. 

"Mr. Stark?" 

"Mm?"

"Thank you."

Mr. Stark turned his head and looked at Peter with more adoration than one could imagine someone ever having. 

"I would do _anything _for you kid." He told him softly. The feeling of his voice was now not only rumbling through the floorboards, but buzzing against Peter's back aswell, the gentle words wrapping around his entire being like a blanket, the warmth settling on him like dust.__

____

____

Tony said he would do anything for him.

Peter believed him.


	2. I'm sure in time, all things will vanish anyway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You know how you hear those statistics about kids being- well, you know. Hurt? In a- a _bad_ , like _really_ bad way - something like 1 in 9 girls and 1 in 50 boys?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took a little longer to publish than i said it would. I always feel like there's something wrong with my writing and try to fix it, and while everything can be improved, i do think that i should finish this short fic. Also, if you recognise the song which the titles come from, i will love you forever! it comes from a song by someone called Liana Flores and she's just about my favourite artist at the moment.

If someone had told Tony a year ago, even _six months_ ago, that he would be sitting in a teenager's room, comforting him after a panic attack, he would have laughed in their face. Or at the very least, given them a very confused look, and muttered "what the fuck?" under his breath, before promptly asking (not yelling, he had to keep his reputation) for security to take them away. 

Nevertheless, that was where he found himself on a Saturday night, after receiving a rather distressing alert from the kid's AI which he had named, for a reason Tony was not aware of, after a Sponge-bob character. 

The AI, Karen, had told him Peter was experiencing the symptoms of a panic attack, and Tony was ready to fly to him in seconds. He hadn't bothered to tell Pepper, but he figured she knew, seeing as she had been the one who originally informed Tony of his _the kid's in trouble expression_ , and he was likely wearing it as he raced past her in the hallway - although Tony wouldn't be surprised if he was moving too fast for her to even see his expression. 

Once he had finally, _finally_ , made it to his apartment, after instructing FRIDAY to go as fast as she possibly could, Tony stumbled in through his window, took one look at how scared Peter was and was ready to burst into tears . He was a _kid_. He didn't deserve this. 

Tony knew he wasn't good at emotions. Instead of talking about his own, he often isolated himself and, although he had since been sober, used to get drunk off his ass as opposed to working through his problems in a healthy way.

Peter was better than him in every way possible. 

Tony was well aware of every movement Peter was making. Every time he shifted a slightest bit, Tony saw. How could he not? The kid was terrified, even if it was only momentarily, of him. Tony had to make sure he was careful or he could be even more scared. So of course, when Peter began melting into a puddle on the floor, Tony was already hypothesising the different possible causes in his head. It didn't take him a long time to deduct the fact that when he was speaking, Peter melted more into the relaxed state. So, naturally, Tony kept talking. It seemed to be helping. He even had seemed to be moving towards him.

And suddenly, before he had time to process it, Peter's back was pressed up against Tony's shin. He resisted the urge to put his fingers through the kid's hair, gently untangling the knots, as he often did when Peter fell asleep on him during movies. Tony was relatively sure he had caught him pretending to sleep on him once after a bad day, potentially for that very reason.

He was still shaking, albeit less so than before. A million thoughts ran through Tony's head, countless questions that his brain was trying its best to answer. 

Tony had seen Peter get panic attacks before. He was justifiably traumatised by the things he saw and experienced during his life as Spider-man. Tony knew what Peter needed during panic attacks - something to ground him, a hug or hand on his shoulder to reassure him that the people that he loved were okay. Or at least, that's what he usually needed. 

This time, Peter had flinched away from his touch, rather than leaning into it. He scrambled away from Tony when he moved even an inch closer and cowered when he wasn't at eye level with him. He had never seen Peter like this before - most of his panic attacks were based upon guilt and worry for other people. This one, he was scared for his own well being, and although Tony had been repeatedly telling Peter he needed to put himself first, a panic attack wasn't exactly how he had pictured the kid doing so. Tony wasn't sure if he _couldn't_ figure out why it was so different, or if he didn't _want_ to figure it out. 

The two stayed there, Peter curled up against Tony's leg, and Tony staring down at him, telling him the most trivial of stories he could think of - lighthearted ones that he had probably already told the kid before. 

It took a while for Peter's breathing to go back to its normal pace, and for his body to stop shivering. Still, they stayed there, neither of them wanting to break the comfortable silence that had fallen upon them, in fear of an awkward one replacing it. 

They both knew they needed to talk.

"You feeling okay now kid?" Tony spoke impossibly softly, in that voice that he reserved only for comforting Peter. Peter didn't move from his position lying against Tony's leg. 

"Kinda. I'm-fine. I'm fine." 

Tony hummed in acknowledgement. He wasn't sure pressing the subject was the most effective way to deal with the issue at hand, so he took a mental note to check in with him properly later.

"Do you want to stay here?" Tony asked the kid. The hardwood floors couldn't be comfortable, or warm for that matter, and he knows that Peter can't thermoregulate very well, thanks to his spider DNA. Despite the probable lack of comfort, Peter nods at Tony's question, and somehow snuggles even closer into Tony than he was before. Tony would never admit to the way his chest warmed, nor the fact that he even thought about describing the action as a "snuggle", but Peter brought out that side of him. He glanced around the room, looking for something reachable that he could give to the kid, like a blanket or something, but none were close enough for Tony to grab without having to get up, and he figured Peter needed him to stay. If Tony also wanted to stay there, that didn't have to be mentioned. 

Tony had scanned the room for anything he could use to cover him to stop the cold, but couldn't see anything. He glanced down at his own clothes, paused a second, but then asked:

"Is it okay if I put my hoodie on you?" 

Peter took a few seconds to decide, but nodded gratefully while sitting up a bit, in order for Tony to manoeuvre it onto him. It was an MIT hoodie - one that Tony had gotten when he was only a little younger than Peter. It was still a little small on him, but when Peter would go on to comment on the matter in the future, Tony would claim that Peter was simply taller than him because of the spider bite. This was not true.

The two stayed there for a while. After Peter had put on the MIT hoodie, he laid back down, his head rested on Tony's leg. It might have fooled him into thinking it had happened naturally, if he had not used the trick before.

It was several minutes before Peter spoke.

"I'm sorry you had to see that Mr. Stark. The-well- you know." A beat. "I guess you're probably wondering what that was about."

"Peter, that wasn't your fault, you know I'm here for you." Tony paused. "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, you know that?" 

Peter nodded. It was awkward, and moved the fabric of Tony's pants around just enough so that it was mildly uncomfortable for both parties. Still, neither could care enough to fix it.

"I know. I just thought- well- you were here for me when I had a panic attack about it. If I tell you, then you kinda know what might trigger another one. And I trust you enough to know this." Peter had somewhat mumbled the last part, looking almost embarrassed by the sentiment. Tony smiled softly at him. 

"I trust you too kiddo." He responded. It might have been an understatement - Tony would tell Peter anything he wanted to know if he asked, and he knew that Peter would never lie to him (unless he were hiding an injury or executing a prank, which had Tony had fallen for more times than he would like to admit). Peter looked away from him, his eyebrows furrowed, taking a deep breath and blowing it out between his lips as though he were about to say something really hard. 

"When I was about 7, I had this babysitter." Peter started off. Tony studied his face - noting the tremble in his voice. Peter didn't turn his head - he kept his gaze on the floor.

"I- he was 17 maybe? And he used to live next door."

Tears were rising in his eyes, and soon started to roll out, silently. They fell onto the fabric of Tony's pants, and as they did, Peter noticed, and slowly sat up, facing his body towards Tony but still keeping his eyes on the floor. 

Peter's voice was croaky and uneven. Tony felt a stab of pain just by looking at his kid's tear filled eyes. 

"He-I- ugh." Peter let out a sigh of frustration at his lack of ability to communicate his thoughts. 

"You know how you hear those statistics about kids being- well, you know. Hurt? In a- a _bad_ , like _really_ bad way - something like 1 in 9 girls and 1 in 50 boys?"

A moment of clarity. Tony feels like he's been hit in the chest. He knows where this is going. His breath catches in his throat and he's rendered speechless. His brain hasn't processed it yet, not really, but he knows what's coming.

Peter takes his time with the next part. He looks guilty even saying it. But he's not guilty - none of it is his fault. Tony wants to tell him over and over and over that it's not his fault, that he is loved and worthy and strong.

Tony's still in shock. He can't say anything. 

"You know how I said I had a babysitter when I was seven?"

And Tony understands. He _understands_ and he feels his stomach drop down all the way to his toes. His brain finally catches up with this thoughts and he fully comprehends what's happened. No. Not Peter. He couldn't-Peter was so undoubtedly _good_. Tony couldn't explain it any other way. No kid deserved anything like that, but Peter was so undeniably _good_ , Tony couldn't even fathom anyone wanting to hurt him, especially like that. He prays he is wrong. He prays to a god he didn't even believe existed because Tony doesn't think he could stop himself from going out there and killing the fucking bastard with nothing but his bare hands, and he KNOWS he wouldn't regret it. He knows.

But Peter continues to speak.

And Tony restrains himself. 

Even when Peter tells him the sick bastard had done the unspeakable to him. 

When he was _seven_.

Tony could do nothing but ask to hold Peter in his arms and be accepted immediately by the kid, the kid, who was braver and stronger than anyone Tony knew, before and after Spider-man. Despite this, Tony still wants nothing more but to keep him there, protecting him from the world, shielding him from it's horrors.

"I'm okay now Mr. Stark. I'm okay."

Tony holds him tighter. 

"I know kiddo."

Both of them were shaking like leaves, unstoppable tears carving rivers into their faces. They each savoured the warmth of the other, squeezing tightly, unwilling for the embrace to end. 

But all things end.

Unfortunately the good.

Thankfully the bad.

As the two broke away, after a hug that felt all too long but not long enough, Tony squeezed the kid's hand, and made a silent promise that he had made before, and would make again many times in the future. 

Tony would _always_ be there for Peter. Whether he needed him, or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> today I learnt that i use italics more than the average person, and my over use of the format came back and bit me in the ass because i thought that using the standard html formatting would work so I published this chapter without checking, and then proceeded to spend literally 30 minutes trying to fix the chapter. i had to read this whole thing on ao3 formatting and everything. plus someone borrowed my mouse right when i needed it and my laptop's mousepad is fucked so when i tried to scroll it kept swapping windows. Man it was so frustrating i was ready to just break my laptop.


End file.
